Southern Continent: Picking Up The Pieces

For in-universe game play. Journey through both familiar and foreign settings, explore lost ruins and forgotten cities, and try to bring light to the darkness of the world... or, you know, blow stuff up. Either way.
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Graybeard
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Re: Southern Continent: Picking Up The Pieces

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Rip and the others had been all-too-well prepared for Alleece's narrative by Thurston, but there were elements to the story that he hadn't known, which was probably just as well. When she had finished, Rip searched his memory for a particularly vile curse word in one of the languages of the Northern Confederacy, found it, voiced it several times. It didn't do any good; the question that had been on the tip of his tongue until replaced by the expletive was back. "Now what?"

"RAWWK," Thurston interjected, not bothering to translate from the Gorielian. "Some people need to know about this, right?"

Rip nodded grimly. "Better get word to Tammy's village, and it can't hurt for the Ghob to know about it either. I don't think they're going to be very intimidating to that bastard, though ... hmmmm ..."

"RAWK. On it, boss," Thurston said, and he took off before Rip could finish his thought.

The thought finally made it out; it wasn't much, but it was the best he could do. "Do you have any idea," he asked Alleece and Oolan, "whether there's anything in the jungle that that guy might actually find scary ... if it was blown up by a factor of twenty or so? Not that I have a clear idea of how to do that, of course..."
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Jack Rothwell
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Re: Southern Continent: Picking Up The Pieces

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The kobolds considered the question carefully. It was a good one.

"You remember the ferranhar?" Oolann asked. "One of those is scary at the best of the times. A giant garlop would flatten those walls like they were made of wheat too."

"And crush all of the innocents regulated to the ground floor." Alleece added. "No. Something that could attack from above would be a better bet."

"Vilahar!" Oolan exclaimed, causing some nearby villagers to look at the sky nervously. "They're like... vampire bats? I think you call them? A big one of those might be attracted to the top of the settlement."

"Where Braccus and most of his Draalshin, elite guards, are."

Then it hit her. Elite guards. The class system.

"My uncle Yaaskiin told me that there were more than a few killikah who were unhappy about Braccus' rule. Maybe we could talk to him and find out exactly who."
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Graybeard
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Re: Southern Continent: Picking Up The Pieces

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Rip thought about it. To say that his ideas of how to use a fearsome monster against Braccus were -- half-formed -- would be to put it charitably. (Half-formed? he thought. More like half-assed.) On the other hand, supporting a rebellion against a ruthless tyrant was a good way to get tortured to death if one was caught.

Still, he didn't have any better ideas. "Let's talk to your uncle," he agreed. "All in the name of getting him interested in that book, of course." Hopefully that would provide enough cover, at least for the moment.

[OOC: Rip and Shorty just don't have much to say here. Can you drive for the moment? Thurston will eventually be coming back, bearing Luminosita knows what news, but his flight will take some time.]
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Jack Rothwell
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Re: Southern Continent: Picking Up The Pieces

Post by Jack Rothwell »

OOC Ehh sorry about the absence bud. I've been hit with a combination of writers block and life's getting in the way again. Just started a new job with an entertainment company as a team leader so I'm going to be chock-a-block for the foreseeable future. Someone's got to whip these aspiring actors into shape! Hope you're well Grey. I'll still be checking in on the site when I can :) /OOC
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Graybeard
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Re: Southern Continent: Picking Up The Pieces

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[OOC: Good on you for the new gig; it sounds similar to something my niece has been doing, and enjoying. Meanwhile, here's a little side show that may help with the writer's block. Feel free to adopt Dorrie as an NPC ... or her mother.]

It took Thurston a while to find a Ghob, at least one that remembered him from the interactions at the Ghob cave a few days earlier, and then to get an audience at the cave's mouth with a Ghob who could speak for the underground city. He was about half way into his description of the plight Tamina had got into when there was a loud RAWWK from outside the cave. Thurston excused himself politely and turned to investigate.

Sitting on a tree outside the cave was another parrot. This one was gray of plume, but puffed up like a flying porcupine and glaring at him. It proceeded to emit a series of squawks that sounded to the Ghob like "RAWWK! Chk, chk, rrk, <unparsable squawking sound>, RRRRRRAAAAAAK!" and flew off.

Thurston, however, knew exactly what it meant: <"There you are! Dorrie's in labor! Get your worthless cloaca back to the nest, NOW!">

Thurston ran a wing across his eyes, the closest he could come to face-palming, and turned back to the Ghob. "Mother-in-law..."

[OOC: Lest there be any thought that I'm projecting here, be it noted that I had an incredibly wonderful mother-in-law who went against all the standard stereotypes. I loved her dearly.]
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Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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